


tonight we are victorious

by homosandhomies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 2000s, Birthday, Birthday Party, Canonical Character Death, Death, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hope, Next Generation, Next-Gen, One Shot, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Post-War, Pre-Epilogue, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28182228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosandhomies/pseuds/homosandhomies
Summary: they had been trying to find the right time to tell her all day, but they wished they never had to. especially not at her seventh birthday party. how do you tell a child why her uncle always looked more tired than usual on this day, trying to stop himself from breaking down? how do you tell a child she is a symbol, representing what so many have lost?
Relationships: Bill Weasley & Victoire Weasley, Fleur Delacour & Victoire Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	tonight we are victorious

They knew they would have to talk to their daughter about it at some point. Why whenever Teddy’s hair turned pink some smiles were sadder than before. Or why her aunts and uncles were easily startled by loud noises. Or why Uncle George didn’t always like to look in the mirror. Or why strangers would go up to her and wish her happy birthday, but never her cousins.

She was seven. Only Teddy understood what happened, but not really. He would probably learn all about it when he started school.

They had been trying to find the right time to tell her all day, but they wished they never had to. Especially not at her seventh birthday party. How do you tell a child she is a symbol, representing what so many have lost?

She tugged on her father’s sleeve while he was eating birthday cake.

“Papa?”

Bill set his fork down. “Yes, love?”

“Why are people always sad on my birthday?”

There was a silence in the backyard. Awkward glances and raised eyebrows. A cough.

In an instance, Fleur was by her daughter’s side. “Mon chour, why don’t we go inside?” She handed off Dominique to Molly and ushered Victoire into the kitchen with her husband.

“What did I do wrong?” Victoire asked.

“Nothing, Vic,” Bill said gently. “Why don’t we sit down?”

The three sat down at the table. Victoire’s legs were comically short, dangling in the air and swaying back and forth. And suddenly, Bill noticed how much she looked like her parents. She had her father’s long nose and soft cheeks, but her mother’s wide blue eyes and silky blonde hair. And she shared personality traits with them too. Her father’s free spirit and her mother’s compassion.

Like a perfect combination of the both of them. But there were missing parts. No deep scars from trauma, only scraped knees and small cuts that could always be healed with a bandage. No crippling fear or nightmares, only the occasional monster under the bed. She didn’t hold the baggage that her parents did.

“Why are people always sad on my birthday?” she asked again. “Are they upset with me?”

Fleur sighed and took her daughter’s hand. “Not at all. Mon chour, have you heard of the Battle of Hogwarts?”

Her brow furrowed. “I think so?”

“Well… before you were born, there was a big battle,” Bill said. “Your mama and I, and your aunties and uncles and Grandma and Grandpa fought some very bad people. And it was very scary. Did you know that Uncle George had a twin brother?”

Victoire nodded.

“He died on the day the battle ended. Your birthday. A lot of people got hurt, or passed away, like Teddy’s Mummy and Daddy. So that’s why people are extra sad on your birthday. It reminds them of what happened.”

“But that’s why we named you Victoire,” Fleur said. “It means Victory.”

“What does Victory mean?” Victoire asked.

“It means we won,” Bill said simply. “Even though we went through a very bad thing, we won in the end. And you are proof of that. _You_ are our Victory.”

“No one is upset with you,” Fleur reassured her. “In fact, you make everyone happy! But we cannot forget what happened. So on your birthday, even though we are sad, we are also happy. Because you are one of the greatest things in our lives.”

“Does that make sense?” Bill asked.

Victoire thought about it, then nodded. “Yes. There was a battle and people died, so it makes them sad. But I make them happy.”

“That is right,” he said. “And if you have any more questions you can always ask us.”

Victoire nodded. “Okay. What do I do to make them happier?”

“Nothing,” Bill said. If she grew up feeling like it was her job to fix what happened, they would never forgive themselves. “You just being you makes everyone happy.” 

“Okay. Can I get more cake now?”

Her parents laughed. “Of course,” Fleur said. “Let’s go.”

As the trio went back outside, things seemed back to normal. Molly was handing out second pieces of cake. Arthur was having a very in-depth conversation with a pregnant Hermione, whose shoulders were being rubbed by Ron. Andromeda was showing Teddy and Charlie an old picture of him with Tonks at Hogwarts. George and Angelina were laughing over something Percy had said. Roxanne was trying to teach James, Fred, and Dominique sign language, albeit very broken sign. Molly and Lucy were fighting over a toy, which Oliver was trying to break up. Albus and Rose were trying to have a conversation with Ginny’s pregnant belly, though it came out as gibberish. Harry was staring at all of them, probably with the same awe that Bill was in.

Just nine years ago, Bill was holding his wife, mourning the loss of a short, black-haired boy whom he had only known for a few short years, but was a brother to him. But here he was, a father of two, and and staring at the next generation of children he thought would never be born. They were going to hear about what happened as if it was something out of a history textbook. They would never have to fight death, wondering if they would live to see adulthood. The hardest part of their teenage years will be difficult essays or breakups. When they sleep at night they wouldn’t see their friends and family being tortured. No matter how much they learned about the war, they would never be able to comprehend it, and there will always be a gap between their generation and his.

But that was a good thing, Bill decided. He felt at peace knowing they had full lives ahead of them. Lives filled with hope, joy, and freedom.

Seeing that young boy, now a man, defeat a monster, wasn’t victory. _This_ was.


End file.
